


as the salt fills my lungs (my last words are for you)

by Shy_the_lawyer



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Blink and you’ll miss it, Dennis Reynolds POV, Drowning, Episode: s11e10 The Gang Goes to Hell: Part Two, Gen, If you’ve seen the episode you’ll know all of this, Not Incest, Scene Analysis, Suicidal Ideation, Trans Charlie Kelly, Trans Dee Reynolds, brief mentions of ableism and transphobia, charlie uses they/them, get that tf outta here, i hate that i have to say that, more of an acceptance of death, nonbinary charlie kelly, not really - Freeform, not really tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:07:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28442142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shy_the_lawyer/pseuds/Shy_the_lawyer
Summary: Scene analysis of That Scene in gang goes to hell part 2, from Dennis’s perspective
Relationships: Dennis Reynolds & Dee Reynolds, Dennis Reynolds & The Gang
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	as the salt fills my lungs (my last words are for you)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey!! I’m back!!
> 
> I wrote his back in September and remembered it existed last night, so I thought I’d post it here, I hope y’all enjoy!!
> 
> Also, please heed the tags for any potentially triggering content!

His toes were cold.

He had treated himself to a new pair of warm, fuzzy socks for this trip, hoping to wear them when he was settling down before bed, wrapped up in blankets, settled in the warmth and comfort he was so desperately missing right now.  _What good they’re doing me now_ ,  he thought bitterly.

He took the briefest of moments to mourn the designer cashmere, most likely ruined by the salt water rapidly filling the boat, before pushing the thought out of his mind to make room for other, more important ones.

But.

There weren’t any. His brain was emptied by a mixture of blind panic and morbid acceptance, the kind that comes when one knows they’re facing the end. It was just white walls and static anxiety bouncing around rapidly inside his mind. 

The water was lapping at his neck, droplets getting in his mouth and eyes and nose as the room rapidly filled up with water; bringing him and the rest of the gang almost to the ceiling. The salt made him gag as it coated his tongue. His arms were getting tired. His legs were sore, and his lungs were burning, just a bit.

He was drawn out of his thoughts of by his sort-of-father giving an existential end of times speech. He finished it with “ _ highway to Hell, baby! _ ” and descended downwards, through the cold and salty water to the metal floor below.

_ He was going to drown himself.  _

They were going to die. Dennis knew that, had known that for a while now, but Frank accepting it with open arms made it all the more real. It was up in his face now, impossible to ignore, like an angry coach during football practice or a fly in the midst of the summer, the water drops sliding down his neck and face not dissimilar to sweating in the august heat. He was going to die, and there wasn’t a god damn thing he could do about it.

He was helpless. But if he couldn’t save himself, or his friends—his  _family_ ,  his brain told him—then at least he could (vaguely) decide how to go.

In one last act of free will, Dennis decided to join his father down below. But—not yet.  _Not yet_.  If he was going to die, he had something important to do first. 

He turned to his right, splashing around a bit in the already roughly moving water. 

“Sis,” he said. He was going to die, and she was going to die, and there was something very important he had to say, something important she had to know.

Yes, they were twins, but that didn’t really matter. Dee had always been the younger sister and they both fucking knew it. She had been, ever since they were three and he first bandaged her skinned knees. When she was eight and crying over how she “felt wrong,” and he curled her hair. When she was fifteen and he’d yell at the assholes that made fun of her metal brace and called her the wrong name. He had always taken care of her for as long as either of them could remember, which made him the older fucking brother. He’d be damned if anyone said otherwise.

And, as the older brother, Dennis had always felt a sense of responsibility, a need to protect her and keep her safe. He had failed to save his baby sister this time, but he didn’t have any room or time to feel guilt. He was dying, god damnit, there was more important shit to be discussed.

She had to know he loved her. If nothing else, in her last moments, he wanted to make her feel loved. He couldn’t save her, he couldn’t even provide a false sense of security to ease the growing anxiety that was no doubt in the pit of his sister’s stomach. All he could do was reassure her that she  was  loved, by the gang, and by him. That he hadn’t meant it every (or any) time he had told her he hated her.

And hell. If Mac was right about the whole spiritual business, and he damned well could be, maybe using his last words on the mortal plane to make someone—his sister no less—feel loved would give his soul some painfully lacking “good boy points.” He wasn’t heartless, after all. He  wanted  to see heaven if there was one, and he was rapidly making peace with the fact that there might be. He supposed he’d find out soon enough.

“I love you.”

Instead of the emotional, touched expression he expected to grace her features, he was greeted with a look of anger. 

“Whatever.” And with that, she was gone.

Well, at least he tried. With a scoff and a  _ whatever  _ of his own, he stilled and allowed himself to sink, ready to be with his family.

Dennis sunk to the bottom right next to Dee, her long hair flowing out like an octopus’s tentacles and tickling his face.

Moments later Mac, followed by Charlie, were quickly approaching the floor. They settled and sat cross-legged next to him. He looked around at all of them, seeing the calm look of acceptance on all their faces, the flutter of their clothes. 

Frank’s hair was swirling around his head, making the name “Old Man’s Halo” even more fitting than usual. He noticed that Dee’s makeup was faded, light smudges of mascara underneath her eyes. Next to him, Mac’s hair had come thoroughly ungelled, looking like a spiked crown as it floated above him in the water. And as he looked at Charlie, he saw the soot was partially washed off of their face, and the once bright red wound on their forehead was blue tinted and distorted, looking softer, less severe under the water. They all looked softer down here. 

He saw Charlie turn to their left, grabbing Mac’s hand. Mac proceeded to grab Dennis’s hand, who grabbed Dee’s, who grabbed Frank’s. The rest of them were smiling, content, almost happy in a strange sort of way. Dennis had never felt more connected to his family. This strange, messy family, both biological and found. It seemed so fitting, for them to spend their last moments like this. Ruining themselves in order to be together. He gave one last smile to his family; he wasn’t scared anymore. He didn’t have a shadow of a doubt in his mind about the decision he was making. They were together, and that’s the only thing that mattered.

And then, a bright light shined through the water and down onto them.

**Author's Note:**

> Tysm for reading!! Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!!
> 
> If you’d like to talk sometime, hmu on [twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/shy_the_lawyer%5D) or [tumblr](https://tumblr.com/%5BShy-the-lawyer%5D) !!


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